In my previous post, I stepped into the history of LGBTQ+ rights, the products of the Stonewall riots, and the progression of the rainbow flag design. While writing the first part, I understood that where countries such as the UK is outgrowing views enhanced by old laws, the rate of growth and acceptance of the LGBTQ+ community in other countries does not come close.
Having parents born and raised in Sri Lanka motivated me to consider the current laws there.
In 1883, the British effectively took control of Sri Lanka and passed the principal law dealing with crimes within the country - the Penal Code. The law identifies the different acts that are considered crimes. 'Carnel intercourse against the order of nature', 'gross indecency' and 'cheating by impersonation' are descriptions of Article 365, 365A, and 399 of the Penal code. As you may have guessed, the vague nature of these Articles gives room for LGBTQ+ individuals to become increasingly vulnerable to police brutality.
Before the Penal Code, the Vagrants Ordinance was implemented by the British in 1841. Whereby, the law equated punishment to be handed to anyone behaving in a 'disorderly manner'. The unruly behaviour is particularly identified with anyone thought to partake in sex work and extends to anyone begging and annoying.
Where the obscure colonial laws provide an insight into the possible discrimination faced by LGBTQ+ individuals in Sri Lanka, the comic 'Spectrum' written by Amnesty International allowed me to be immersed in true events which provide depth to the discrimination I had anticipated. One of the four accounts refers to Kiruthika. Her experience of being harassed for being a lesbian and her feelings of discomfort about telling the police suggests how desperately the LGBTQ community requires support. Her awareness that being Tamil in Sri Lanka would increase her vulnerability brought reminders of the ongoing conflict against Tamils in Sri Lanka and reiterated the powerless environment she and many others could be in.
Along with my research, I looked for photographs of Pride celebrations to catch a glimpse of the varying emotions and actions. The process led me to India.
Confetti, waving flags, the rataplan of drums, and dancing were enough to tell me that the celebration was speaking for a breakthrough for the community.
Gay sex in India was reinstated as a criminal offence in 2013. In 2018, the colonial-era law was overturned by the Supreme Court. The ruling called upon the simple truth:
"Any discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation violates fundamental right"
Despite this being one of many milestones to gain LGBTQ rights in India, the moment appeared to bring wide smiles, watery eyes, and precious kisses. For someone who loves capturing emotions in an artwork, it was beyond doubt when I encountered photographs of the jubilant scenes across India that I was going to turn this into a drawing.
Where my first instinct was to use colouring pencils, I knew I had to step outside my comfort zone to recognise my potential with different mediums. To uncover the medium(s) for the piece, I considered the elements I desired for the drawing. Colour. Emotion. Contrast. I knew these elements were to complement one another to replicate the unmissed energy from the reference photograph.
What looks like paintings hung in a nursery helped me revisit different brushstrokes and become conscious of the relationship between pressure applied to the brush and the tone of colour. Being able to manipulate the brushstrokes motivated me to use watercolours. The soft tones resting on the pages in front allowed me to imagine the use of biro over the colours. The thought instantly told me that I could achieve contrast and direct the viewer to the expressions first.
Looking at my outcome, I can recognise how I have tried to merge colour, emotion and contrast. Would you agree? What did you notice first in the drawing?
Reading the experiences shared by LGBTQ+ individuals in Sri Lanka and capturing celebrations in India encouraged a new thought to pass my mind. I recognised how easy it had become to type my thoughts in a blog post without having these conversations in person. The absence of immediate reactions encouraged me to become comfortable with writing. However, I knew I started this blog with the hope to learn, communicate and start conversations. Looking at this 'why' compelled me to take the chance and freedom of social media to see if anyone was interested in discussing their experiences as an LGBTQ+ individual with me.
To my grace, two individuals responded and invited me into their stories.
The first person I spoke to described how he felt more accepted being bisexual in the UK than in his home country, where religion appears to govern the values shared within the community. His upbringing in a Roman Catholic and Hindu household increased his exposure to various teachings.
With further reading into how the two religions respond to LGBTQ people and relationships, I came to know texts such as the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Where homosexual orientation is unidentified as sinful, homosexual acts and any tendencies are described as "objectively disordered". It brought reminders of the descriptions within the Vagrants Ordinance and allowed my mind to wonder at the influence of religion and law in today's world.
Later in our conversation, I found it intriguing to hear how he felt distanced from the LGBTQ community. Yet, he was accepting of this circumstance. Being surrounded by a welcoming group of friends allowed him to feel "150% " supported. Hearing this overemphasis made a smile instantly broaden across my face.
The second person I spoke to gave me a beautiful and honest account of what it feels like to be part of the LGBTQ+ community and the challenges of being bisexual. She shared the tussle of configuring the balance between feeling not gay enough and too straight within the LGBTQ community despite the community creating a safe space. Her uneasiness of appearing indecisive or unserious by those outside the community came to her attention when she came out to her sister. Where, unfortunately, she was told that it is just a phase. It became interesting to note how she uses scenarios when speaking to her family to hint at the possibility of women being in her future just as men. My conversation with her confronted me with the complexity of adapting to different groups of people in a community.
Where I was after the reasons why LGBTQ history is important, she let me understand that any history is valuable. She laid out these reasons clearly and I would like to share them with you - as a reminder of the weight past events has on the present.
History tells us:
How far we have come.
How far we still need to go.
What not to repeat
Learn from those who came before us
With my questions nearing an end, I asked her what advice she would give to someone struggling to come out. Her words were beautiful and somehow translated the heart-warming nature captured in the photographs I encountered within my research.
"Be kind to yourself, you are alive, and you are just the way you were meant to be, so enjoy it."
I hope these words are a reminder of the love you owe yourself and that this post has provided an insight into the power of starting conversations in your community - however small or big - to grow compassion for each other.
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